


Epilogue

by Livinginfictions



Series: Tactile [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:03:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14455764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livinginfictions/pseuds/Livinginfictions
Summary: This is the epilogue of "Routines". Once everything between Rose and the Doctor settles, their library relaxation takes an interesting turn.While I don't suppose you need to read the original work to enjoy this, it would definitely give context. :) I just separated them because I didn't want to ruin the T Rating of "Routines"





	Epilogue

They were nestled on the couch together, as usual. Rose had given up on the drawing she was working on, frustrated by the angles she needed to get the shadows cast by three suns correct. The Doctor had listened to her grumbling, but he was mostly lost in his book. It was slightly juvenile; a thesis paper on black holes and the possibility of time travel from the early 22nd century. It was surprisingly accurate in a lot of points, but still so very wrong the Doctor found it more of a comedy to read. He didn’t even notice Rose’s hand was stroking his bare stomach until his eyes began to drift close.

He blinked down at her. Was she that eager to go to bed? It’d taken less than a week for Rose to basically train the Doctor into falling asleep on command. Up and down, and up and down, from pec to navel. Just a few and the Doctor was fighting to keep awake. It was ridiculous the effect Rose had on him, but he couldn’t deny he’d had no trouble getting enough rest since they’d begun using the library as a bedroom and sleeping on the couch that was as big as a bed.

She didn’t seem to notice when he yawned. Rose was staring down at her own hand, and the Doctor watched her fingertips swoop down to his abdomen. That movement did  _ not _ make him want to sleep, but he didn’t want her to know that, so he stayed still and breathed evenly. 

In a nearly nonchalant brush, Rose slipped her hand under the Doctor’s sleep sweats, and even under the elastic of his pants, and rubbed a soft circle at the dip in front of his hipbone.

The Doctor twitched, in spite of himself, and Rose’s hand jerked away and down to her side. Damn his new body. It was far too jumpy, and the Doctor had a fraction of the control from his last regeneration. He hadn’t meant to scare her away.

“I’m sorry, I know I used to do that with...well, you. But I just forgot that you’d changed, and I shouldn’t have done that.” They didn’t normally talk about these things. They rarely talked at all while they relaxed in the library together. But Rose sounded worried and embarrassed, so the Doctor set down his book and draped his arm over her waist.

Her head was on his chest, so he couldn’t exactly reach her ear, but he whispered nonetheless, “It’s okay, I didn’t mind. This body is just, sensitive.”

It was like he was reliving a memory, when Rose scooted up to put her head on his shoulder instead, and returned to stroking his abdomen. Just as he had before, the Doctor did the same, putting his hand under the hem of her camisole and rubbing lightly at the skin below her navel. After a few moments, Rose tried again, and this time the Doctor held himself absolutely still.

Her hand felt nice, and each touch moved incrementally lower, until she touched the seam of skin where his hip became his leg, and the Doctor shuddered. It certainly didn’t feel the same as last time. Before it had been comforting, warm. Now it made the Doctor’s hearts speed up, and the warmth was in his stomach. If she was taking a chance, he wanted to be on level ground with her, so the Doctor skated his hand under her pajama bottoms, and rested it on her hip, overtop of the soft cotton of her pants.

Rose appeared to gain confidence at his touch, and she continued her movements until her fingers reached the crop of hair on the Doctor’s crotch. She seemed content to stay there, making those little circles that left the Doctor trying to hide how his breathing was hitching. He liked it, oh how he liked it, but if Rose continued there was going to be a very obvious problem. Rather than asking her to stop, he opted for distracting her. A particularly strong shudder made the Doctor squeeze Rose’s hip, but then he abandoned it to find somewhere that would get a similar reaction from her. Level ground, right?

Her skin was so soft, and he couldn’t help petting it a couple times. The repeated action had the desired effect of making Rose sigh. It was beautiful, and also did nothing to prevent the Doctor’s problem from making itself known. He was looking down at where his hand disappeared into Rose’s clothing, and she was doing the same, so he knew she had to be seeing him get hard. But she didn’t stop, or even react. If anything, her circles sped up. After a moment her fingers moved down, and the Doctor forgot what he’d been planning to do, because her knuckles brushed against his cock and he blew out a breath to keep from groaning.

This was not where he’d thought the night would go, but the Doctor decided he didn’t much care. This was brilliant.

For a while Rose’s hand teased him. She refused to directly touch him, but every other swipe across his crotch pressed the back of her hand, or the side of her fingers, against him and he twitched again. Rose didn’t stop this time. After a particularly firm touch, the Doctor jerked his hips upward involuntarily. Really hoping Rose meant to do what it seemed she meant to do, the Doctor closed his eyes and asked, “Please?”

He was aching, and the relief when Rose wrapped her hand around his cock was so intense the Doctor let out a long low moan. She hadn’t even done anything yet. When she started pumping up and down, the Doctor went quiet, focused on keeping his breathing relatively even, and trying to control the now constant tiny thrusts of his hips into Rose’s hand. It was bliss. It was hot and her hand was tight and the Doctor couldn’t imagine it getting better, until it did.

Rose swiped her thumb over his head and the slide of her hand got deliciously smooth. The Doctor had to bite his lip to keep the moaning in, but he let one slip when she stopped her ministrations. He felt slightly better about it when he realized she wanted to pull his sweats and pants down to get more access, but he wasn’t completely happy until his clothes were down to his knees and her hand was stroking him again. Rose shifted against him, and he looked down in time to see her head lowering and then everything he had was stuck on the hot, wet, glide of her lips down his length. 

He gave up on holding back the sounds she pulled from him, and his free hand came to rest on the top of her head. There was something heady about feeling his hand rise and fall as her mouth covered him. It wasn’t too slow, but it wasn’t quite fast enough to send him over the edge, and the Doctor chanced a slight push on Rose’s hair as she reached his tip. Immediately she went down again, and increased the speed obligingly, and the Doctor groaned desperately in thanks. Now, he was well on his way to finishing. The hand he’d forgotten on Rose’s abdomen squeezed at her hip in warning, and Rose lifted off him, letting her hand move ever faster and squeeze just a little tighter. Each time she reached his tip he whimpered, and soon he'd lost all control of his thrusting.

Heat was swirling and tightening, and the Doctor tilted his head back and closed his eyes to chase the static that was building in his stomach. He felt Rose return her head to its spot on his shoulder, but with one more swipe over his head, the Doctor let out a guttural groan and he was gone. A tingling sort of energy flooded through him in overwhelming waves, and when the Doctor came back to himself, Rose had her head tilted up toward his face, and she’d been watching him. 

His chest was a mess, as was Rose’s hand, but she just climbed off the couch, nonplussed. The Doctor couldn’t really imagine moving anytime soon, so he was grateful when Rose returned with a cloth and cleaned them both up. After pulling his pants and bottoms back up, he tugged Rose back down to the couch, and hummed into her neck.

“Any chance I could try that on you, when I get my brain back to working?” He mumbled, and Rose giggled next to him. That sounded like a yes.


End file.
